CLINTON (CT.) December 19, 1999 -- In an eleventh hour attempt to remove the "stigma" of William Jefferson Clinton's Presidency and "ongoing shame" from a potential Hillary Rodham-Clinton Senatorial reign in neighboring New York State, burghers in this small seaside town are hastily reviewing legal procedures to drop the Clinton name from their centuries-old municipality and are encouraging residents to rename the place.
Melvin Sarkona, owner of the Clinton Dry Cleaners on Main Street notes: "This town may not be as ritzy as Madison, but it need not be associated with those two." Madison is an affluent seaside town, named after President James Madison, located several miles down the Long Island Sound coast from Clinton.
When privately asked by a TV reporter about the name-change movement, the American President seems to distance himself from the Clinton name when he observes, "Clinton was just a name I took from one of my step-daddies. A salesman named Blythe is thought to be the actual father." Would he consider changing his name, the Commander in Chief is asked? "I suppose that'll depend on how the Clinton Legacy goes down in the history books. I imagine if it goes real negative, flushing the Clinton name might be a smart move."
At the Clinton Supermarket on Maple Avenue, a ballot box has been set up to rename this pretty seaside community of 24,000 voters some 30 miles up I-95 from Mr. Clinton's alma mater, Yale University. One shopper, who declines to give her full name, says she is a lifelong Clinton resident and bitterly adds: "Better to rename this place Nowhere Land."
State laws in this small New England state, fifth of the original 13 states in the union, permit name changes according to statute and blue laws enacted 180 years ago in the capital, Hartford. Residents are taking to the movement with gusto.
Students at Clinton High School are conducting a "Change Clinton Now" campaign in the school corridors. Senior Mindy Smythe-Bolles says, "We asked the president to please leave the White House. Nothing doing. To chill back his great love for easy chicks. No sale. And now we see they aren't going to leave public life, they won't go back to Arkansas, so we have to take harsh measures to keep our dignity intact."
When told the her state twice voted for Mr. Clinton, she says, "I didn't (vote for him) anyway." Reminded Clinton twice voted for Mr. Clinton, Mandy smiled and notes, "Cocktail hour here precedes a trip to the ballot box."
Campaigning in Scarsdale (NY), one hour south of (the town of) Clinton, the First Lady was asked by a middle school student if she was prepared to change her name if the President ever changes his last name. "You haven't seen my new bumper stickers and billboards coming out next month ... but yes. Both 'Hillary' and the 'Clinton' names got dropped by the ad agency. We're going with plain 'Rodham'. Rodham is an old New York name, goes back to a family of Israeli immigrants who were multiculturally supportive and open-minded on social issues. They were out front on the issue of forced conscription of gays and Puerto Ricans into the armed services--especially the Navy--back then. A remarkable family who embraced Irish-American song and dance and Italian-American cuisine."
But Ralph D'Onofrio, a 41 year-old lawyer and one of President Clinton's ardent supporters here, takes issue with the grass-roots effort to change the name of his hometown: "I agree with Al Gore: Mr. Clinton is one of the greatest presidents ever. He's employed as many attorneys as any president, including Richard Nixon. I won't vote to change the Clinton name. His legacy will include convoluted linguistics - good for the legal profession. His 'how do you define is' well, that breaks new ground. Call him a master."
At the Clinton Country Club, one of the state's loveliest golf
courses and one with a long waiting list for membership,
a politician's wife who asked to remain anonymous comments, "Mrs.
Clinton has stood by her man. But she's not baking cookies like
some stand by her man wifey-wifey. Plus she hangs out with religious
figures like the Reverend Al Sharpton. Get down! My sister in
arms, get down girl! Saved ol' Bill Clinton's lumpy butt. She's
a chick with cohones, big ones too. Call this town Bigballs. Or
Clinton. They are synonyms here."
The politician's wife and the lawyer's are lonely voices heard along Clinton's tree-lined streets on a recent weekday. The effort to change the Clinton name is especially virulent at the old Clinton Pizza Shop on Oak Street. "If we had a Clinton Special, which of course we do not," says owner Demitrius ("just one name, ok?"), "we could not give it away here. It's no good, and people from the old country they ask me 'what's up with using Clinton name?' I do not like. We only eat the pizza here, we are nice people. Call us Nicetown, ok?"
Jed Belletande, a small appliance repair man in town, says he hopes for a middle way to end the Clintonian Chagrin found here. "Connecticut is called the Nutmeg State as well as the Constitution State. Why can't we call Clinton by two names?"
That, it appears, would only invite additional name-calling
and is rejected by First Selectman Dellie Mackoe-Snodsen.
"One name. Not Clinton. Nothing 'presidential' please! I'll
scream. Not Billville. Not Rodham-Clinton by-the-Waters. Not Blythe-Clinton.
One name. We are good people here. One name, please. It's a disgrace...Hey!
Call us Disgrace Place!"
But, First Selectman Mackoe-Snodsen, that would be two names.